One Earth
by Orpah
Summary: The nations are gathered up by aliens into groups: Asia, Oceania, Africa, Europe, North America, and South America. But what purpose could these aliens have for every personification on earth? And what is this wonderful future they keep talking about? Multiple POVs
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Hetalia! End/AN/

_Holding Facility B – August 11th, 2:08 AM _

Austria awoke to hair tickling his face. This was highly unusual, because he did not share his bed with anyone...

And more importantly, the solid metal beneath him did not feel like a bed at all.

His eyes snapped open, and he was met with a distressed Kugelmugel, whose braids were in his face. The micronation looked down at him, purple eyes watery as he seemed to wait for some sort of reassurance from Austria.

"Where... Kugelmugel, where are we?" Austria pushed up to a sitting position, thinking how it simply couldn't be that he was lost, because he would remember wandering, and Kugelmugel would be able to figure out a way home on his cell phone.

"I don't know. I woke up here." Kugelmugel's voice seemed to strain to hold back anything loud, as though it would attract ravenous animals.

And this was definitely not a place that Austria would expect wild animals. The place was metal, with an iridescent sheen to it where it had been polished on the walls; it was smooth, as though there were no doors or openings anywhere; a light glowed above them, a blueish shade that made Kugelmugel look extremely pale.

The ceiling was high, to the point that Austria was sure it would take three Russias stacked on top of each other to reach it. And it expanded in all directions.

Which was good, because other nations in gray bodysuits lay on the ground all about him, some snoring, some silent, and some just coming to.

He looked back at Kugelmugel and tried to think of what to say, while he told himself that panic would not help anyone and so therefore the rising thrill in his throat absolutely had to be smashed down. "They can't expect us to stay here; there isn't even a bathroom."

It might have sounded rather stupid, like he couldn't see the terrifying situation for what it was, but Austria found that acting like things were somewhat normal was far safer than flipping out.

Kugelmugel nodded, drawing his knees to his chest. "I want to go home," he muttered, looking out over the crowd of nations.

Austria wanted to as well, but he couldn't very well say so. He reached out hesitantly, putting his hand on Kugelmugel's head. He almost promised it would be all right, but he didn't want to lie; he had no idea what was happening.

"Kugelmugel! Kugelmugel!" Sealand appeared on the scene, throwing his arms around Kugelmugel. He chattered, childishly in Austria's opinion. "It's aliens, I know it's aliens! But don't worry, because all we have to do is get them when they come in to feed us!"

Austria shook his head, removing his hand. "Sealand, you're micronations, you can't fight our captors. And what would make you think they are aliens? Really, the imagination you have is far too excitable."

Sealand's eyes were bright as sparks, as he said, "But I saw them! They're aliens, they've got huge chunky bodies like bricks and these eyes that are white with tiny black pupils!"

It turned Austria's stomach uneasily to think they could have been captured by anything but humans. He pursed his lips, trying to think on who really captured them.

"Austria!" Hungary came through the thick of nations, who were all stirring by now. "There you are, thank god you're all right!"

Her cheek was red where it had been pressed against the floor. She might have still been blinking the sleep out of her eyes had she not clearly been full of adrenaline. Her arms wrapped around him.

"Hungary," Austria said, hugging back, though just about as stiffly as usual. He didn't feel comfortable hugging in front of so many people.

"Aliens! Guys, aliens!" Sealand said impatiently, and suddenly there was a whisper, gasp that seemed to sweep through the room.

Austria turned, and was astonished with what he saw.

A doorway that surely hadn't been there before, a figure stood, about seven feet tall, with a body like a cement slab and long fingers; its eyes were pure, blinding white, with only small black specks for pupils. The pupils widened as it stepped into the room, and he could see faint blue lines under its gray skin.

"Nations of Europe of Earth," it said, voice sounding like it was somehow plugged, "welcome to the future."

* * *

_Holding Facility A – August 11th, 2:35 AM_

The alien stood in the doorway, its announcement of "Nations of North America of Earth, welcome to the future" still ringing in all the present nations' ears.

"Who the hell are you?" America demanded, on his feet already and pointing a threatening finger at the alien.

Aliens existed, sure, but America had only ever met small aliens. Friendly aliens. Not creeps who snatched them up away from home and dressed them up in weird jumpsuits or whatever.

The alien's head tilted to the side, the blue streaks near its eyes seeming to stand out in the iridescent metal glow. "Congratulations, nations of Earth. You have reached a new level in your development; you have now been accepted as part of the interstellar community."

America glared back, saying, "I asked who you were! Why are you keeping us here?"

It set him off, the alien's huge eyes, the thick set of its body; it looked like it could squish him in a fight. He had his fists clenched, in case he would need to fight it.

Canada stood next to him, but a couple steps back. "America, don't make it angry..."

The alien's eyes were fixated on him, as though it could see into his soul. "My name is not important. Your purpose here is vital to your planet's emergence into the future."

America's eyes darted around the room, as he took in who was there. Mexico, Cuba, Guatemala... even Molossia, strangely enough. It was definitely only North American nations.

"What if we don't want your future?" Cuba had spoken up, broad arms crossed over his chest. Normally, America didn't like Cuba, but for once he was grateful for someone who agreed with him.

The alien tilted its head to the side again, saying, "It is an honor for Earth to join more progressive planets. You will accept."

America gritted his teeth, wanting to punch the alien. All that kept him from doing so was the superior size of the creature; that, and it looked like a punch from its hand could snap the head right off the neck.

"Where are we?" Canada's voice was a lot softer than America's, but he seemed to be trying to be just as tough.

"You are in a wild area of Earth. Rest assured, you have not left your home planet." The alien's bulbous eyes looked about, at all the faces of the nations who stood uncertainly in the center. "You will have today to rest; tomorrow, you shall know your objectives."

An ominous feeling seemed to float throughout the room, as nations glanced at each other. What could an alien want with them? What sort of objectives could these be?

Before questions could be asked, however, the alien stepped back, and the door closed liquidly behind it, as though there had never been a door there to begin with.

* * *

_Holding Facility D – 2:45 AM_

Chaos broke out the moment that the door closed.

If the nations had been nervous and uncertain when the alien was there, such feelings seemed to burst forth with 10 times the strength.

Babbling filled the room, with some nations going into pale faced shock. Nations argued with each other, some cried, and even one or two seemed near ready to get into a fist fight.

"Everyone calm down! Stop!" China's voice seemed to be right next to Hong Kong's ear.

The Special Administrative Region watched quietly as his elder brother struggled to try to get everyone's attention. He reached absently towards his pocket for his cell phone, before remembering it wasn't there.

Hong Kong felt he was taking the news fairly well. After all, he'd only gone silent, and that was a far better reaction than the rest, wasn't it?

He was nearly knocked out of his skin when Macau grabbed his arm. "Hong Kong, are you feeling all right? You look pale."

"It's the light," Hong Kong said, looking up at his brother. He didn't know for sure if it was the light, but better than to worry Macau. He probably was already freaking out on the inside.

Which, considering his face was dead serious, no calm smile in the corners of his lips or slight crease by his eyes, he must have been. Macau licked his lips, looking about at all the nations filling the room with chatter.

Every Asian nation (and some not-quite nations) seemed to be there. There stood Afghanistan, there was Nepal, and even Russia was at the corner of the room, looking around with a small smile on his face. It creeped Hong Kong out, so he looked back at Macau.

Macau's glasses were gone, he realized. Strange. "We're all right. They haven't like, harvested our organs or anything," Hong Kong tried to reassure, suddenly feeling like the elder brother.

Macau nodded, still holding tightly to Hong Kong's arm. "We're all right," he repeated, as China seemed to be trying to raise his voice even higher.

South Korea let out a huge whistle, and finally everyone's attention was turned to China.

"Thank you, Korea," he said, face that of a serious and well-seasoned leader. He looked out at all of them, saying, "I know right now everyone is not sure of what's going to happen. We can't control that, but we can control how we react.

"Everyone here should be ashamed. We aren't children, or normal humans; we are nations with years of experience on our side. Anything other than remaining calm is shameful."

There was a bit of murmuring, but it quieted down as China spoke.

"We are the most populous continent on the planet. We have nothing to fear from these aliens if we band together."

There was more murmuring in the background, and Hong Kong couldn't hear what was said, but it made China frown.

"I don't care who you normally don't get along with, Iran. This is a special circumstance; all our rivalries and animosity must be put aside for now. You shouldn't be fighting your family when an enemy is at the door."

Everyone was solemn, even the typically smiley South Korea. A sort of peace seemed to settle over the group, as though China's words had done what he intended them to do.

China looked about, saying, "Whatever comes tomorrow, we must face it with honor."

There was a loud murmur of agreement, and the buzzing panic seemed to disappear.

What could aliens do to them if they stuck together?

/AN/ I just had this idea. I hope you like it!


	2. Chapter 2

There are a couple of Ocs in this one, but it's sort of necessary.

I don't own Hetalia! End/AN/

_Holding Facility B – 8:23 AM_

By now, most nations sat huddled together in groups. They hadn't seen the alien since about six hours previous, and some of the original panic had started to wear off.

Sealand had taken up a spot next to Sweden, with Kugelmugel's head in his lap while he played with his braids. Kugelmugel was a strange micronation, and he liked having his hair played with; he was sort of like a cat or something, Sealand thought.

All of the micronations in the room were sitting with Sweden, minus Seborga, who sat with his brothers. Ladonia sat with his laptop balanced on his knees, the thing closed and running in sleep mode to conserve battery power. He had not been able to reach the outside via the internet; there were no bars.

Sealand wondered if the other micronations were fine. He wondered if every other nation on earth had been taken, and they were somewhere else.

"Sweden?" He turned from looking at Kugelmugel's head absently, looking in the blue light at Sweden's pale face.

"Hm?" Sweden was not a person of many words, and for some reason he scared other nations, but by now Sealand could recognize a lot of Sweden's facial expressions and cues. Right now, he had his full attention.

"We can fight the aliens, right?" Sealand felt pretty confident in his ability to knock people out. Being made of concrete and steel gave a person a mean punch, no matter the size.

Sweden seemed to think a moment, and before he came up with an answer, Ladonia had one.

"I'm pretty strong," Ladonia's voice seeming to suggest he was as strong or stronger than Sealand, "We just got to hit him hard."

"How do you know it's a him?" Kugelmugel asked, purple eyes closed.

"Nothing that ugly could be a girl!"

"Ugly animals have girls too."

"Guys!" Sealand cut off their argument, still toying with one of Kugelmugel's braids.

"You shouldn't fight it." Sweden gave his say, piercing eyes squinting without his glasses; they were looking at Sealand's face, but not quite directly eye to eye.

Ladonia gave a huff, but said nothing.

Sealand's eyes widened, as he said, "But I could knock it out! I could save us all!" What was wrong with Sweden? Didn't he see that there was only one way out of here?

"Not fighting it," Sweden said more firmly, his hand landing on Sealand's head. He looked like he wanted to say more, but all he added was, "Could get hurt."

It was hard to understand. Sealand bit his lip, wanting to burst out a bunch of questions and demands at once; once he narrowed it down, he demanded, "Why not? If America were here, you'd let him fight the alien."

"You're a child," Sweden said, and now he'd turned towards Sealand, hand slipping from on top of his head to pat his cheek. His eyes looked about 10 times as piercing as ever. "Can't. I can't see that."

"Sweden!" It was Denmark, who cut in before Sealand could feel even the beginnings of frustration coming on. The energetic Dane was leaning down into Sweden's face, and Norway, Iceland, and Finland flanked him.

"Denmark," Sweden greeted, and it would have sounded like he could care less about meeting Denmark, but Sealand knew better.

Denmark sat down across from Sweden, and the others set up a sort of half-circle about him. "So me, Nor, Ice and Fin have been talking. We need to do something to get out of here."

"Not safe," Sweden immediately said, a frown on his face.

"Well, things aren't always going to be safe," Finland said, and he had a look on his face that seemed so different from the cheery man that Sealand knew. It was like he had seen many things that were 'not safe' and had come out stronger.

"Fin's right. We have to do something while we can; who knows, maybe they're going to freeze us or make us drugged up. This might be our only chance," Denmark said, eyes sparking with energy.

Sweden seemed to take a moment to draw a number of words out of himself. "We don't know enough."

"He makes a point," Norway said coolly, "there may be hundreds of aliens here."

"Nor, I thought you were on my side!" Denmark said, looking sort of appalled.

"Don't be childish," Norway replied, hitting him on the side of the head. It was pretty typical with them; Norway never hit hard enough to cause any real damage.

"I can help! I can fight!" Sealand volunteered, eager to side with Denmark.

"I'm sure you can, buddy, but this is a grownup problem," Denmark said, giving him a sympathetic smile. It was as though he saw Sealand as a drooling tot that tried to say a big word, and got it halfway right.

Sealand glared back. Denmark wouldn't treat _Iceland_ that way.

"I think we should get together the strongest in the room and rush the alien when the door opens," Denmark said, oblivious to the glare. "At least we'll get out; we can make up the plan from there."

"What if they have us bugged?" Iceland spoke up, his white brows creased in concern. "What if they already know what we're planning?"

Norway nodded in agreement. "We don't even know how the door works."

"Sure we do, it's just all watery and it opens," Denmark replied, crossing his arms. "All we have to do is get through it, we don't need to know how to work it."

"But what if we're bugged?" Iceland repeated, looking a little irritated.

Denmark seemed at a loss for that. But Finland had a response.

"It's better to fight back and lose than not fight at all. And besides, just because we don't know the odds doesn't mean they're bad."

Sweden watched them. His eyes seemed to dart over towards the micronations every so often, as if he were considering _something_ about them. He put his hand on Ladonia's head, saying, "We could hurt the others."

"You think they'll punish us?" Denmark said, but he was already dismissing it. "Come on, one alien against at least twenty or thirty of us. What could go wrong?"

Sweden was silent.

"Well, who's in?" Denmark looked around the circle.

Sweden caught Sealand's arm, as if he knew the micronation would volunteer.

"I'm in," Finland said.

"I am too," Norway sighed.

"I-"

"Not you, Ice, you're too young," Denmark cut off Iceland, but he was looking meaningfully over at Sweden.

"No," Sweden said, and his grip on both boys seemed to tighten a bit.

"Fine, be that way. We'll get enough people without you." Denmark stood, and Finland and Norway followed suit. "Watch Ice, since you've got a daycare going."

Iceland looked indignant, snapping, "I can watch myself!"

Norway patted his head, but didn't say anything. The three moved off, looking to get others in on their attack.

* * *

_Holding Facility A – 9:02 AM_

People were getting hungry.

At least, that was what America assumed, since his stomach was growling. The Latino nations were grouped together in several clumps, all chattering in Spanish, as if to spite him. And god, there were a lot of Latino nations. He felt like he was trapped in a group of mildly hostile strangers.

Fortunately, Canada was there, and he wasn't preoccupied with Cuba or somesuch.

"Hey bro," America said, sitting Indian style with his arms crossed.

"What?" Canada looked up, and America could tell he was already stressed by all this, the uneasy lip-gnawing giving him away.

"We got to stick together, you and me, okay?" Because America did not have a lot of people on his side in this room. Sure, he got along okay with some of the nations, but there was a bit of a divide, with Latino on one side and him and Canada, the pasty Anglo-nations, on the other.

Canada hesitated, but said, "Sure. Whatever you say." He obviously didn't think it would come down to them against the world or something like that.

"I hope they feed us soon," America sighed, thinking of burgers and fries and all sorts of bad-for-you yummy things.

"Maybe they eat once a day and think we do the same," Canada offered, shrugging. It was like being hungry didn't even get to him.

"Yeah, well, one of them had better figure it out soon. I'm starving," America said.

Canada rolled his eyes, saying, "You are not starving, you've eaten within the last day."

"Yeah, well, I'm really really hungry, then," America said, grinning a bit at Canada's response. Of course he would be picking at actual word definition.

Canada looked about the room, saying, "Don't go, you know, being embarrassing about it, okay?"

America raised his eyebrows. "Since when am I ever embarrassing about food?"

"Are you serious?" Canada looked at him like he wasn't sure if America had just told a joke or not; he must have decided he hadn't, because he continued, in dead serious tone, "I mean it. The other nations here, they're not as well of as you, and-"

"Oh come on! Like I ever rub it in," America said, surprised that Canada was even saying things like that. What, was it going to be The Hunger Games now? Yeah right.

"America. We have to get along with these nations, okay? Don't be obnoxious," Canada insisted, tucking his arms against himself and leaning against the iridescent wall.

"Whatever, Canada," America sighed, rolling his eyes. As if he was going to be obnoxious in a situation like this. And so what if they didn't like what he said? If he didn't mean to insult anybody, they should just let it go.

Canada watched him, but said nothing more.

* * *

_Holding Facility D – 9:35 AM_

The nations for the most part were calm. Everyone sat silently, or murmured quietly to each other.

Hong Kong didn't even notice the tension in one corner until he happened to glance in that direction. And when he did, his heart nearly stopped.

Israel had been classified among them, evidently, because he sat in a crouch by himself, glaring as though he would kill someone and eat their liver if they so much as came with a meter of his space.

Only a bit more than a meter away, several of the Middle Eastern nations glared back, and the tension was palpable.

Hong Kong wondered how long they had been sitting there like that. He certainly hadn't been looking around to see who all was there.

Iran twitched, and Israel twitched in reaction, face seeming to dare Iran to try it.

"China," Hong Kong murmured, not entirely sure the situation should be allowed to go on. China looked over from where he'd been sitting, eyes shut, face amazingly calm for the situation.

"What is it?"

Hong Kong gestured, and China sighed as he saw.

His face seemed to say that he should not have to deal with this, he was so far from the Middle East it wasn't his problem; and yet, now they were all stuck in a room together, so it made it everyone's problem.

"What are you going to do?" Hong Kong wanted to know. China had made himself the leader, and so it fell to him to try to keep things calm.

"Aiyah..." China sighed, obviously thinking of _something_.

He walked over, Hong Kong trailing behind him; Hong Kong figured he could use the backup, if things went sour.

None of the nations involved looked up as China approached.

"You can't fight here, aru," China said, standing in between them. Hong Kong had to applaud his bravery.

"We're not fighting," Israel said, body tense as a coiled spring. "Unless he starts it."

Iran looked back at Israel through disdainful eyes, saying, "If he provokes us, you can't blame us for retaliating."

China kept a serenely calm face. "There will be no fighting. Israel, move to the other side of the room."

"Why do I have to move?" That was one thing that seemed to be a defining trait with Israel; stubbornness. But it wasn't as though asking all the other Middle Eastern nations to move was a more viable option.

"To keep a fight from happening. You can sit with Japan, aru," China said, and Hong Kong could see he was straining to remain serene.

But it seemed Israel had been reached. He stood slowly, never taking his eyes off of Iran. It was like a hostage situation, as he slowly eased himself towards the other side of China without breaking eye contact or turning his back.

It was a relief when they walked away. Hong Kong felt himself release a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Japan was not a big fan of Israel, but he wouldn't pick a fight. He didn't show any outward signs of displeasure at Israel being seated with him, but Hong Kong could imagine he didn't consider it exactly a good thing.

For now, peace reigned.

/AN/ Gah, I hope you like it. I wasn't sure if I was going to bring in Israel and Iran and that whole Middle Eastern stuff, but it seemed highly unlikely they would be in a room together and not have a problem of some kind.

I'm having a ball with this story. It's so much fun not to have to do extensive amounts of research on every little thing (though of course, had to wiki China-Israel relations and Japan-Israel relations).


	3. Chapter 3

Just to clarify:

Holding Facility A = North America

Holding Facility B = Europe

Holding Facility C = Africa

Holding Facility D = Asia

Holding Facility E = Oceania

Holding Facility F = South America

Also, I will switch POVs within the groups; I've only done so with the Europe group, so I understand the confusion. :) Sorry.

I don't own Hetalia! End/AN/

_Holding Facility A – 11:46 AM_

Molossia had joined America and Canada in their position against the wall; the poor micronation appeared, if Canada was correct, to be absolutely in shock.

Of course, Canada could be wrong; he'd barely met Molossia, and he was lucky to remember his name. But if his twitching and quivering lips and the way he kept trying to hide his eyes under his bangs were any indication, Canada was probably right.

America seemed oblivious, sprawled against the wall like he owned the place and holding his stomach. "I'm freaking hungry," he complained, adding, "Oh my god, do you think they're trying to see who eats each other first? Last one standing wins or whatever?"

"America, that's not appropriate," Canada chastened, looking around to make sure America wasn't heard. The nation was rather well known for his disconnection with reality, but to suggest things like that was just idiotic. America was fortunate Canada actually cared about the big dummy.

"Well, maybe it is, you don't know," America insisted, kicking up a bare foot listlessly. "We'd have to eat Cuba first, he's the fattest."

"America!" Canada's snap was far from frightening, he knew, but it seemed to get America's attention.

"What?" America groaned, as if Canada was his mother and he was being corrected for something stupid.

Canada wanted to hit him. They were in a pretty serious situation, and he wasn't treating it seriously at all. In fact, it probably would feel very good right now to smack him. But Canada wasn't a generally violent person, and he held back his urges. "America, please, just try to be mature, all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay," America said, and then he abruptly turned to Molossia, grinning and saying, "Bet you didn't expect all this to happen when you went to bed last night."

Molossia started to cry, face turning red (or rather, purple in the blueish light) as his head dropped towards his chest. "I want to go home..."

America hesitated, but then, reacting exactly the wrong way, ruffled Molossia's hair and said, "Come on, buck up! You'll be okay."

Canada rolled his eyes, and came over closer. "It's going to be okay; you'll get to go home."

Molossia just buried his face in his knees, wrapping his arms tightly around them.

America shrugged at Canada. "He doesn't like not being at home," he said, still ruffling his hair. "I mean, seriously, he like almost never leaves."

Canada wasn't sure what to do. He didn't often deal with crying teens, except America when he did stupid things like get a jalapeno seed in his eye. That had been a long night.

He put his hand on Molossia's shoulder, but to his surprise, Molossia jerked away, glaring at him.

"Don't touch me!"

Apparently that was an America-only privilege. Canada pursed his lips, withdrawing his hand. "I'm sorry."

Molossia muttered to himself, burying his face back against his knees, and Canada caught the end of it, '...ing bastard.'

For America, it would have been completely incomprehensible, but Canada just reminded himself that everyone was on edge, and let it go.

Suddenly, the door opened with a small swishing noise, and the alien came in, directing a couple of smaller aliens as they pushed what appeared to be a levitating trolley.

The smell was foreign, yet strangely like oatmeal or wet bread, sort of a mix. Canada's stomach rumbled, and he could see every eye in the room was on it.

"Eat, for tomorrow you will begin your glorious destiny," the alien said, and the three backed out of the room.

The nations fell upon the food, cupping amounts of the mush. It might have had a rather dull grain color to it, but Canada couldn't tell in the light.

It tasted like wheat-something. It tasted much worse than oatmeal or cream of wheat.

No one, however, raised a complaint.

* * *

_Holding Facility D – 11:59 AM_

The mush served to the nations tasted horrible, sort of reminding China of grass. He'd still had to keep a close eye to make sure that certain nations didn't interact, but he'd gotten his fill of it; there was a lot to go around.

He'd sat back, finding his small group clustered together still after the feeding. Macau, Hong Kong, Japan off to the side, Taiwan off to his side, South Korea on one end and North Korea on the other. Mongolia had taken up a spot none too far away either. And of course, Israel was sitting on the other side of Japan.

All the nations were in groups, generally speaking.

Southeast Asians sat off on their own, with Myanmar looking generally suspicious of everyone, and Vietnam looking around with that stone cold face of hers, like she would beat the snot out of anyone who attempted anything with her.

The Stans, as America so _cleverly_ referred to them, were in several bunches, depending on who liked whom at the moment. Afghanistan looked uneasy, clearly uncomfortable without her hijab.

Iraq was puffing out his chest, looking severely about the room. He was on edge too, China could tell; they were not the Europeans, with most conflicts only shadows of old ones, at least a decade old and mostly forgiven. Many of the wounds received by those in this room were raw and fiercely protected.

India sat with several smaller nations, leading yoga or something; some sort of calming technique which he probably hoped would keep things peaceful.

And Russia sat alone, smiling pleasantly to himself.

Or he had been last China had looked. Now, he realized with a start, the nation was lumbering over towards them, pleasant smile still on his face.

Mongolia looked, noticed Russia, and before China could have any say about his sitting with them, had scooted over to make room for him. Russia took the spot, still smiling.

"Russia," China greeted, stifling a sigh. Japan was slightly frowning (which translated to big frowning in Japan's body language), both SARs were exchanging looks, South Korea looked at China as if he could get Russia to go away, and Israel was outright scowling.

North Korea greeted him with a nod of the head, however, and Mongolia looked as okay with it as ever. It figured that they would.

"China," Russia said with a smile. "How is everyone?"

There was really only one way to deal with it; China gave a somewhat tense smile back, saying, "As well as can be expected, Russia."

"That is very good," Russia said, and he seemed to lower his voice a bit. A slight urgency seemed to be in his tone, as he said, "If we are to escape, we must do something soon."

At least Russia was being pretty practical. China still remembered his earlier stages, where he'd been unreasonable; shifty eyes, too big smiles, lies, lies, lies. He was glad in some ways that Russia was no longer the Soviet Union, if only because the tension had been straining the whole world.

"We could like, make a diversion," Hong Kong suggested, and China could tell he was thinking of fireworks, explosions, other loud and flashy things. He always seemed to like things that made the heart pump at a much faster rate.

Russia nodded, eyes darting about the group. "I have an idea for a diversion."

"Slow down," China said, rubbing his temples. "Are you here to ask for our help in your plan, or are we planning together, aru?"

Russia shrugged, saying, "It is my plan, but I am open to suggestions."

"Sure you are," South Korea muttered a bit loudly; Macau elbowed him, but it didn't stop Russia from turning an icy look on him.

"Excuse me, I am not done talking. You will talk when it is your turn, da?"

South Korea seemed to wither a bit under the look, glaring down at his bare feet, but not saying anything.

"The plan is simple," Russia said, eyes mostly on China, "We make a diversion, and when the aliens come to stop it, we escape through their door."

"But what's the diversion?" Taiwan said, leaning closer to Japan to hear better.

Russia's eyes settled on Israel, who glared back in response, as if Russia were transgressing his personal space by looking at him.

China already felt uneasy before Russia said,

"This plan is only for us, da? The rest will stay behind." He paused a moment, before simply letting the words fall out of his mouth. "Israel is a good catalyst; there are many nations who want to fight him."

The look on Israel's face was deadly. "If you think for one moment I'm going along with this plan-"

"It's not your choice," Russia cut him off, shrugging as he added, "I am far bigger than you are."

"That's not ethical," Japan said, and if China was reading him correctly, he looked very uncomfortable. Taiwan chimed in, agreeing.

North Korea sided with Russia. "If it gets us out, then we're foolish not to use it. Israel is just a casualty-"

"How about I make you a casualty?" Israel snapped, hands balled into fists as he jumped to his feet.

"Calm down," China said, spreading his hands out and trying to somehow get everyone to behave peaceably. It felt like he was with the tiny nations he'd helped grow all those centuries ago, though the stakes seemed considerably higher. "We're not sacrificing anyone until we know what's going on."

Russia's smile seemed irritated. "It may be too late by then."

"It's a risk we'll have to take," China insisted, voice firm. He felt tired already, just from the hours they had been there. Israel and he might not be close friends, but he thought enough of him to not want to sacrifice him.

Russia clucked his tongue, saying, "You will think differently by the time they come to get us."

"They said glorious future, how bad can it be?" South Korea demanded, having regained his nerve. He was probably thinking of video games or fantasy series where the heroes were plucked to a new world by unknown powers.

"You're a fool," Russia retorted, "No one gives someone else a 'glorious future' for nothing; there is always a cost."

China sighed, but said nothing. Russia stood, and went back to his corner, eyeing the other nations as though he would come up with some plan involving them.

It was going to be a long day until their 'glorious future.'

* * *

_Holding Facility B – 11:34 AM_

Sealand had watched as the nations gathered together to charge the door; the group included most of the brave, strong, or firebrand nations, not the least of which being Poland, Germany, Prussia, Hungary, and Spain.

Iceland had wandered off, insisting he didn't need watching.

Kugelmugel had fallen asleep on his lap, body twisted awkwardly so that he was half on Sealand and half off. That was good, Sealand thought, because he'd been a bit squirmy before, like he wanted to be somewhere else. He didn't blame him for that, of course, but Sealand liked to see his friends happy, or at peace.

But just then, Sweden stood, gesturing to both Ladonia and Sealand to stand too, saying, "Stretch." So, Kugelmugel had to be awoken.

They were circling the back of the room, Sweden working out the kinks in his back, as the group of the nations willing to take on the aliens stayed clustered near where they had last seen an entrance.

"Sweden," Sealand said conversationally, as Kugelmugel trotted next to him, "Do you think they'll feed us soon?"

Sweden shrugged, but he did reach out and pat Sealand's head, as if to say, 'Not to worry, they won't starve us.'

"This place is horrible," Kugelmugel complained, twisting one of his braids in his hands. "It's not art. It's the opposite of art."

Sealand beamed at his friend, trying to brighten the mood. "But the walls are really shiny and rainbowy! That's kind of art, right?"

"It's not art at all," Ladonia put in, arguing with Sealand. "It's just kind of pretty."

"Art is pretty," Sealand replied, rolling his eyes. Of course Ladonia would dispute him. But at least he was taller than Ladonia, so he pretty much won every time.

"Art is expression," Kugelmugel said, as they now followed Sweden in a cluster like goslings following the mother goose. He seemed to have a rather downward tilt of the mouth.

Sealand would have argued, but the unthinkable happened: the door opened.

Sweden was already watching intently, arms spread out a bit as if to block the micronations from something.

A trolley began to be pushed in, but the nations gathered around the door surged into it, getting around it and causing high pitched sounds to come from the aliens that pierced Sealand's skull.

Everyone was watching, eyes trained on the fighting nations. Would they make it out?

"If you do not get back in the room, we will be forced to take drastic measures!" The alien from before could be heard, voice slicing through the noise of the nations.

"Let us go!" This was Poland's voice, and Sealand couldn't quite see beyond the door.

"You can't keep us here!" Scotland. Sealand would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Don't make us hurt you!" Spain's voice was scarier than Sealand remembered it ever being.

There was a sigh, though it sounded like it was coming out of two mouths. And that was when a blast shook the entire room, sending the micronations tumbling off their feet.

The nations attacking came flying through the air like rag dolls, arms and legs flailing everywhere, smacking up against walls and hitting other nations.

Sweden was immediately running towards the spiky-haired pile of Denmark, and the micronations followed, Sealand feeling his heart beat thrumming against his rib cage.

Denmark was so still. His body was twisted, and he wasn't even trying to move out of what had to be an uncomfortable position.

Sweden's fingers went against Denmark's throat, and he seemed to strain for something, some sign. Other nations were screaming, and there was a lot of movement going on; there also seemed to be cries of pain.

Sealand leaned over Denmark, feeling a lump in his throat, like he'd tried to swallow a plum. "Sweden? Is Denmark sleeping? Is he knocked out?"

But Sweden didn't answer, searching out other points to place his fingers, each time getting more and more frantic. He wasn't finding what he was looking for.

That was when a cold fear struck Sealand. Denmark had to be okay. He had to be about to wake up and laugh at them for freaking out about him.

Sweden pulled back, abruptly standing and scanning the now moving, frantic crowd.

The door was closed, no trolley inside.

Sweden pounded through the crowd, leaving them with Denmark.

Ladonia seized Denmark, shaking him and yelling at him to wake up. His eyes were wide, tearing up, and his hands shook horribly. But there was no response, as Denmark's head lolled unnaturally.

It hit Sealand like a train: Denmark was dead.

Sealand didn't remember much after that; only a darkness that struck suddenly.

/AN/ I hope y'all liked it, and it wasn't a major mood switch or something. I'm not always good at keeping a consistent mood.

Anyway, expect more soon!


	4. Chapter 4

Just a heads up, America's kind of, um, culturally insensitive and a bit of a jerk.

I don't own Hetalia! End/AN/

_Holding Facility B – 3:40 PM_

It had been hours since the deadly strike, and the room had quieted down considerably, like a funeral parlor during the visiting hours of a victim of a sudden death.

The tally of dead was three: Denmark, Monaco, and Ireland.

France held Monaco gently, not having left her body since her death; she hadn't even been in the charge, but she was hit just so by Ireland's flying body, and both were struck dead.

Sealand didn't know what to think. He could see the British Isles clustered around, and despite the stiff upper lip that England so often displayed, it seemed he was having a hard time holding it together.

He didn't want to join them. Sealand had woken up with a bump on his head and the dream-sense that everything was all right, only to have the situation regurgitated into his memory. He didn't want to be near Denmark, even though he felt like he must be the most horrible child in the world; Sweden kept a vigil, but he was alone.

It was easier to focus on Norway, whose head Finland said was probably cracked, though he was quite alive.

He'd thrown up a lot, and lay still, unallowed to move by Finland.

Iceland held his hand, sitting anxiously by his side. Ladonia, Sealand, and Kugelmugel sat a distance further away, on orders of Finland; no one was to disturb Norway.

"If only I could clean it up," Finland mumbled to himself, not for the first time, looking at the pile of vomit near Norway. It didn't make Sealand feel sick, because he had a stomach of iron, but Ladonia and Kugelmugel were averting their gazes.

Sealand grabbed both of his friends' hands, though he didn't say anything. Neither fought him.

It was strange, to be in such a life or death situation. Sealand wasn't sure how to approach it, because he couldn't simply charge in and fix it, no matter how he felt about it, and never before had he heard of nations dying like _this_.

Nations were supposed to be nigh invulnerable. They were supposed to withstand some of the worst that could be done to humanity, not hit the floor and die. Not hit a wall and crack their skull and then puke and lie helplessly on the ground.

Sealand wondered, not for the first time, what was going on with everyone in the world. Were Molossia, Wy, and Hutt River safe? Was America going to save them all? Or would it be China? Would they get rescued at all?

Sealand swallowed, ignoring that last thought and looking about the room.

Hungary was sitting with Austria, Prussia and Germany, a huge goose egg on her forehead; Prussia's lip appeared to be bleeding, and Germany's wrist was swollen horribly, turning purply and scary.

Everyone seemed closer to the people they cared about, even if normally they fought. Moldova was being held tightly by Romania; all three of the Baltics were clustered with Ukraine and Belarus, Latvia sporting a swollen shut eye, and Belarus bearing a large swollen area in the back of her head from where she'd hit him.

A couple nations were in as bad a state as Norway.

Spain was still out cold, which couldn't be good. Romano hovered over him nervously, swiping at his eyes and snapping at anyone who talked to him.

Luxembourg lay on his back, completely still though his eyes were wide open and looking around. Belgium and Netherlands stayed around him, but it was clear there was nothing they could do. Belgium would start to cry every so often, and Netherlands would pat her back with his big hand, and Luxembourg would look distressed.

Sealand didn't know how they were going to get out of this one.

* * *

_Holding Facility D – 3:55 PM_

Nations were sleeping left and right.

Hong Kong would have joined them had he not become used to insomnia by electronics; as it was, staying up this many hours was not hard for him.

Taiwan was sleeping with her head in his lap, while the others had to do without 'pillows' of any kind. Macau lay stretched to full height, Japan dozed sitting up, China had unintentionally fallen asleep leaning on North Korea, who seemed to drift between being awake and being asleep, as though he desperately needed the sleep but didn't want to.

In fact, most of the nations were asleep around him. South Korea snored somewhat loudly, even.

It appeared to be just him, Mongolia, and Israel awake, though Israel looked like he badly wanted to be one of the sleeping.

Hong Kong sighed, looking over at Israel. "I'll watch if you want to sleep. I'm not tired."

"I'm not tired either," Israel insisted, doubling his efforts to remain sitting upright.

Mongolia watched them both with his hawkish eyes.

"Like, it's okay. Everyone's sleeping anyway," Hong Kong said, shifting a bit. His foot was starting to go numb under Taiwan's head.

Israel took in a sharp breath through his nose, saying, "I am not sleeping with them only meters away from me! You wouldn't understand, you've never been in my position."

Hong Kong tilted his head to the side, saying, "I've had a monster at my borders before."

"Only one," Israel said, a rather grumpy look on his face. He took a big breath that looked like it was a barely suppressed yawn. He looked like he hadn't even been sleeping before they had taken him.

Hong Kong decided to let it go. He wasn't going to convince Israel of anything; the nation was extremely stubborn, and as little as he knew him, he knew that much. He let out a sigh, a bit bored out of his mind.

"So, you're like, 70 years old?"

"Yes," Israel said, almost hesitantly, a slight crinkle of confusion in his eyebrows. "Let me guess, you're more than twice that."

"Well, yeah." Hong Kong leaned back against the wall, glad it could support him. It was nice having something to his back; he imagined Israel must feel the same way.

"Age isn't everything," Israel muttered, apparently taking it as an insult.

"No, it's not," Hong Kong said, wishing he could play a game on his phone. It was desperately boring in the room. It was like all thought of being afraid had slipped out of his mind after the doldrums kicked in.

The slightest smile appeared on Mongolia's face, as he watched them. He must have found them funny; he was considerably older than either of them.

"What I wouldn't give for a gun," Israel muttered, glaring at thin air.

"I've always preferred a bow and arrows," Mongolia said, stretching his back; the pops and cracks were barely audible.

Hong Kong didn't have a favorite weapon, so he stayed out of the conversation.

"A gun's much better; accuracy, speed, firepower," Israel said, looking a little bit irritable. At the same time, however, his eyes seemed to light up a little. It was as though he was glad to be talking to Mongolia.

"True," Mongolia said, "but sometimes gun shot wounds don't even slow down an enemy. A hit with an arrow will stop anyone in their tracks."

Israel seemed to consider this, as his shoulders relaxed fractionally. "You can't tell me an arrow can top an automatic assault rifle; even if the first hit doesn't do it, the next ones will."

Mongolia shrugged, saying, "But using a bow and arrows is more impressive; it takes years of practice and training. Almost anyone can pick up a gun and fire it."

"Yeah, well, old weapons will get you dead," Israel said, though there seemed to be a hint of agreement in his voice. It was as though he wished times were such that the impressive could be more important than the practical.

"Sleep," Mongolia said, looking rather like a parent or something. "You need it. I will keep watch."

Israel looked like he was going to start complaining again, insisting he was fine, but his shoulders slumped a little. "They're sleeping too, aren't they?"

"Yes," Mongolia said, making a gesture towards him. "Two sets of eyes are enough," he added, nodding towards Hong Kong.

Israel seemed to consider this for a long moment, before his eyes started to droop, and then his head dipped against his chest; despite still sitting up, he fell asleep within minutes.

Hong Kong found that impressive, somehow, but he did wonder what made Mongolia want to look out for Israel. They did have some sort of trade relations going on, he thought, but he didn't know much about their relationship.

Mongolia didn't really have a lot of enemies to begin with; the only person that came to mind that he was on bad terms with would be Taiwan, and all he did was ignore her.

Hong Kong looked at Mongolia's imperturbable face, somehow sharper without his glasses. Was Mongolia another Russia, intent on using Israel and them all for his own gain? Or was something else going on?

It was hard to tell.

* * *

_Holding Facility A – 4:08 PM_

Nothing, nothing, nothing. Nothing of note had happened since the food, and America was bored.

Canada slept, leaning against the wall. Molossia also slept, curled up against America's side. He was a good kid, America thought, and he absently petted his hair.

"America." Mexico stood across from him, dark eyes seeming sort of... hm, troubled? America wasn't sure.

"Hey Mexico. What's up?"

It would have been really funny if Mexico had started dancing and singing some weird Spanish song, but he didn't do that. Instead, he crossed his arms, saying, "The other countries and I have been talking, and we can't stay here like this. We thought you'd want to help us break out."

America considered this; whatever plan they'd come up with, it couldn't be that great. Mexico knew so little about sci-fi last time America checked, he'd have no comprehension of what to do against the aliens. It was definitely a good thing they had asked him.

"All right. How about I punch in the door, and then we can all charge out?" He could probably punch in the door, if he remembered where it was. He was thinking on how it would break apart and tear like foil, and he was so much in his thoughts he didn't hear Mexico until he repeated himself.

"America! We're not using that plan, I told you, we already have one." Mexico looked irritable, and America guessed the food probably wasn't sitting with him well. Didn't Mexicans usually eat like corn or something?

"Oh. Okay. Let's hear it."

Mexico sighed, then started relating the plan. "We think there are cameras watching us; Guatemala saw something move in the wall when someone slapped someone else-"

"Oh, who slapped each other?"

"Please don't interrupt," Mexico said, again irritably. His voice was low and quiet. "We think it responds to actions, but not words. So, if we start a riot, the aliens will open the door, and we can turn on them and get out."

"But why can't I punch the door through?" America was mystified. His plan seemed much more sound than their plan.

"Because Montserrat hit his head against the wall and got an electric shock, and he's still pale and shaky. It's not safe to hit the wall," Mexico said, though if America was reading his face correctly, it didn't seem like he really had qualms against America being hurt; rather, he probably cared because America would be a good fighter against the aliens.

"...who's Montserrat?" America couldn't for the life of him think of anyone named Montserrat.

Mexico let out an exasperated sigh. "He's a British Overseas Territory. Kind of short, black wavy hair? He's in the Caribbean."

"Nope, not ringing any bells," America said, moving on. "Okay, sounds like a plan. I'll lead the charge."

"You may lead the charge if you want," Mexico said with another sigh. "Tell Canada and that other one about the plan."

"Yeah, okay." America grinned, watching as Mexico retreated back to the group of other nations. This was going to be awesome!

/AN/ I hope you like it. Also, did you know Montserrat is the only place in the world besides Ireland to have St. Patrick's day as a national holiday? Combination of big Irish population and a rebellion on St. Patrick's day. Cool, huh?


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own Hetalia! end/AN/

Holding Facility A - 5:56 PM

Maybe Canada was a fretter, but it was better than being wholly oblivious like America. The plan did not seem sound to him at all, and he had already pleaded with America to not go along with it.

"You're just being a sissy," America had said, as though he hadn't seen Canada play hockey.

The tension in the room was like a rubber band pulled nearly to the breaking point; at any moment, Canada expected someone to explode. They were all waiting for the signal to break out into a brawl, and no one could be persuaded to calm down and think about things rationally.

Molossia seemed to be the only one who was of the same mind as Canada, though he only muttered to himself quietly that 'this is all so stupid.'

Canada sat uneasily, twiddling with the straps on his jumpsuit. While America might be frothing at the mouth to do something, he thought doing something just for the sake of doing something was stupid. They didn't know how these aliens thought of them, they didn't know how they'd react; there was no clear indication that they even cared if they killed one of them.

"Hello," came the unfamiliar voice, and Canada looked up at a child with wavy black hair and dark skin who bore an astonishing resemblance to Ireland.

"Hi," Canada greeted back, and wondered what he wanted.

The child scratched behind the back of his head, saying, "You don't have to sit alone; you can come sit with us."

He was sort of familiar, and Canada felt like a jerk for not knowing instantly who he was. He strained for a few moments, before a name surfaced: Montserrat. "Oh, Montserrat, that's fine. I don't want America to feel alone."

Montserrat looked near Molossia's age, if not even younger, but there was a certain aged, wiser look to his face. He had been around a lot longer than the little micronation. "If you're sure; you're always welcome among the overseas territories."

"Montserrat," Canada said, noting a tremble in the territory's hands, "what do you think about this plan?"

Shrugging, Montserrat tried to put his hands into pockets that didn't exist. "I don't know. I mean, I can't think of anything better."

"There's got to be a better way, though," Canada said, eyebrows creasing into a frown. He had his arms crossed over his chest. None of this sat right with him.

Montserrat shrugged again, adding, "If you come up with something, I can bring it up with the other overseas territories, if you want. Then we can all go to Mexico and the other bigger countries."

Canada sighed. "Thanks, Montserrat."

Montserrat gave him a friendly smile, and then turned to walk away. He had a small limp, which Canada believed came from the volcano activity. It was funny how much information was flowing back into his head now that he remembered who Montserrat even was.

"He speaks English almost like it's his first language," America commented, apparently having shown up mere moments ago.

"It is his first language, America," Canada said with a roll of his eyes.

"Not Spanish?" America asked, regarding Canada as if he wasn't sure if he was being tricked for a joke.

"No, not Spanish. He's an overseas British Territory; there are a number of them here," Canada sighed, wishing America knew more about the nations in their part of the world. Sure, he could point out Russia or China on a map, but ask him which one's Guatemala? That would be impossible for him to answer.

"Yeah, okay," America replied, apparently deciding to trust Canada. He grinned, as he said, "Soon enough, we're going to start! If you want, you can sock me in the eye, so long as you don't hit too hard!"

"As appealing as that is, America, I'm not brawling with anyone," Canada muttered, wondering if they truly expected him to break his more peaceful approach to the world.

"Whoa, dude, you have to join in. Tell you what, I'll tell Molossia to fight you, he doesn't hit hard." America beamed at his own ingenuity, looking at Molossia and saying, "Mol, you hear that? You're fighting Canada."

Molossia looked sullenly at Canada, as if not impressed. "Fine."

Canada groaned. "America, I said I'm not fighting. You fight Molossia-"

"No freaking way!" Molossia nearly yelped, sitting up straighter all of a sudden. "I'm not fighting America!"

"Well, you both had better be ready. We need to make it look really really realistic," America said, looking at both of them. It was as though he considered himself the wise elder brother who would save the day.

Canada sighed, leaning onto his knees. He didn't like the look of this at all.

* * *

Holding Room B - 6:09 PM

Norway was in a lot of pain. At least, if the way he seemed only a twitch from sobbing outright was anything to go on, Finland thought.

It made his blood boil. It made him want to kill; Norway was important to him, even if they weren't as close as some of the other Nordics. If it were up to Finland, if things were his way, he would get his damn rifle and go on a shooting spree against the damn aliens.

As it was, he could only do what he could only do, which was use the his pant leg to bind Norway's head wound and sit with him. And that had already started a while ago. He itched to do something about it, something concrete.

Iceland still held tightly to Norway's hand, sitting next to him with the look of someone who feared never seeing his loved one again. Yes, they fought a bit, but all of the Nordics knew that Iceland was a temperamental teenager, not a hateful brat.

It was probably the most that Norway had heard the words 'big brother' in centuries. Iceland would call him big brother as he spoke to him, both asking him not to leave, and trying to convince him he was okay enough to make it.

It was kind of counterproductive, but Norway seemed to be satisfied with the way things were, and Iceland was doing his best, so Finland let him be.

He ignored the chill on his naked leg, and had the absent thought that he hoped his butt cheek wasn't showing. It had been a stretch just to use the whole pant leg to wrap around Norway's head; Iceland had donated a sleeve for extra padding against the wound itself.

Sweden had yet to return from Denmark's side.

Finland was pretty sure that Denmark had been Sweden's first friend- and really, his first enemy too. Relationships like that, when they ended so abruptly and violently, were hard to even comprehend.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Finland removed the thought of Denmark from his mind. He couldn't dwell on him now; he had to keep Norway alive. "Iceland, is he sleeping? Don't let him sleep!"

Iceland started to stutter, talking to Norway. "Nor- big brother, w-wake up, you can't sleep-"

Finland clapped his hands, and Norway's shut eyes fluttered open. The look in his eyes was pained, even with the usual expression he wore. Finland gently laid a hand on his shoulder, murmuring, "I'm sorry, but you can't sleep. You've got at least a concussion."

Finland's heart gave a small throb as Norway's eyes seemed to reflect the hell he was going through; pain, exhaustion, just wanting to shut off the pain… He wouldn't speak, as it moved his head, and any movement seemed to be very painful.

"It's going to be okay," Finland assured, though he had no idea whether or not it was going to be. It was important that Norway didn't know that, however.

A small, closed-mouth moan came from Norway, but it was unclear if he was trying to communicate anything other than the fact he was in pain.

Just then, a sliding noise hit Finland's ear; the door was reopening.

All the nations who could stared, apprehensive. What would the aliens bring with them this time?

* * *

Holding Facility D - 6:22 PM

The room had been draped in sleep only moments before, but when the door opened, nations began to stir.

Taiwan grabbed Japan's hand as aliens came in, holding long sticks with glowing ends; it was unclear what the ends did, but no one wanted to touch them.

"It is time for you to meet your glorious destiny," an alien said, maybe the same one from before, maybe not. Taiwan couldn't tell.

Fluttery feelings struck her stomach, like she might throw up. The aliens with the stick began to herd the group towards an opening at the other end of the room.

Fear had begun to spread; Taiwan could practically breathe it in. She clutched Japan's hand tightly, and he murmured, "Stay with me."

When the aliens reached them, they all stood, even Israel and North Korea.

But it seemed North Korea had other ideas. "I'm not going through there."

The alien extended his stick towards North Korea, gesturing towards the large opening at the other end. It didn't use any words, strangely enough.

"No! I will fight you!" North Korea snapped, even as China reached for his shoulder to try to either calm him down or pull him along.

But China didn't reach him in time, and the glowing end of the stick did.

His entire body went rigid, like he was made of wood. His eyes had widened, pupils shrinking drastically.

"Leave him alone, he'll come with us!" China shouted, looking as though he was holding himself back from flying at the alien; as though he understood his vulnerability against the huge creature.

The alien removed the end of the stick, and North Korea folded to the ground. He was breathing heavily, gasping.

He wasn't getting up.

The alien gestured again, and then again.

"You hurt him, he can't get up!" China said, standing in between the two. The alien grunted, gesturing more forcefully towards the exit.

"Don't you understand me? He can't!" China sounded a bit desperate, like he couldn't bear to see North Korea left behind, even as the relations between them had been. And he definitely wasn't strong enough to lift North Korea himself.

Some strange sound which might have been a word came from the alien, and he raised the stick.

"Comrade, no need for trouble, da?" Russia was there, smiling at the alien as he hefted North Korea up as easily as a doll.

The alien hesitated, but as Russia moved towards the exit, he lowered his staff. He gestured one more time towards the exit, but they all understood and moved swiftly.

Taiwan could feel a knot of fear in her stomach; where were they? Where did the exit lead? What if they were supposed to be eaten or made to be slaves?

Japan clenched his hand tighter around hers, as if he could sense her fears.

Hong Kong caught her other hand, and they entered the gaping black exit together.

* * *

Holding Facility A - 6:25 PM

The fight had begun.

America had immediately socked Canada in the shoulder, fighting the grin off of his face. It wouldn't do if the aliens realized he was happy about it.

Canada irritably shoved him away, telling him, "Go pick on someone else!"

"Canada, we've got to fight! Everyone else is!" America punched him again, and Canada looked like he might howl in pain.

Through gritted teeth, Canada growled, "If you don't stop hitting me, I am going for your eyes, understand?"

"Okay, fine," America said happily, "Go fight Molossia then. We've got to make it look real!"

Canada slipped off to do that. Or at least, America presumed he did.

This was awesome. It wasn't often America got involved in a brawl, and he did love a good fight, so long as he was stronger. He waded into the mass of countries, and started punching and kicking left and right.

Bam! Cuba in the nose! Boom! Bahamas in the gut! Kachow! Greenland in the arm!

It was like being in some video game. Everyone was like non playable characters he had to fight, and the mentality took over.

The thrill of a fight surging in his veins, America couldn't help but grin. This was fun. He socked a few more people, then, a brown face appeared in front of him. He socked it without thinking, before even taking in the fact that it was a child.

The child's head snapped back, and instead of rebounding, he fell.

Suddenly, it was not a video game. America stopped what he was going, feeling his stomach fall into his shoes. "Hey, hey, you okay?"

The door opened just as he started to poke at the kid, and his priorities shifted. They had to get out of there, and the kid was probably fine.

The nations surged forward, but there was already a huge number of aliens with big sticks with glowing ends. A voice boomed out over the room, saying, "If you wish to fight, you will die. If you wish to meet your glorious destiny, exit through the back of the room."

Heads turned, and sure enough, there was a gaping hole in the back of the room.

"You'll kill us anyway!" came the shout, and a number of voices agreed loudly.

America clenched his fists, holding them up threateningly towards the aliens. "Come on, you want a piece of this? I can take you all on at once!"

"I repeat, you will die if you stay here and fight. If you would like a demonstration to prove what I say, then that can be arranged."

Nations seemed to be halting. There was an overflowing energy in the room, like they might all burst forward through the aliens.

"America! That's me!" Canada's shout, as he gestured towards the gaping hole, startled America.

"What do you mean, it's you?"

"It's Canada, they're letting us go!"

This brought a whole new level of worry to the room. They couldn't be simply being let go, could they? America scratched his head. He trusted Canada, and there was no way that they knew of that a nation could be tricked into recognizing the land part of themselves.

The aliens came forward, threatening with their sticks.

Several nations came surging forward then, only to be struck down with the sticks. They lay limply, shaking as though they had been beaten severely.

"Grab them! Grab the ones who fell!" Mexico was the first to call out orders, and the nations complied, dragging the hit ones towards the exit.

It was decided; the revolt was over. America grabbed Molossia, and looked through the crowd for his own territories; he couldn't spot them anywhere.

"Go, go!" he said, following the surge of nations.

As they exited, they stumbled into the Canadian wilderness. Pine trees stretched on for what seemed like miles, and the crisp air was a cold shock compared to the warmth of the holding facility.

As the last nation (Mexico dragging Aruba) came out, the opening closed.

Now they would see what the aliens really intended to do.

/AN/ Sorry this took so long! School and all that. And I hope you don't mind all the OCs; it's kind of hard to just not include them, you know?

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! It's been fun writing it!


End file.
